Better than Me
by TheSyndra
Summary: Hans isn't a good man, but Elsa loves him anyway. [mAU, Helsa, Smut, Oneshot].


**A/N: **So, this is a Helsa story for anyone that's looking at this and following me for only ElsAnna. If you absolutely cannot stomach Helsa, then don't read — but this is a gift for freudianslip13, since she's been feeling down, and this is basically all I know how to do.

Anyway, this isn't really meant for anyone but her, but I hope that anyone who reads this enjoys it anyway (8

or something like that.

* * *

><p>Hans has never lied to Elsa, not since they agreed they're dating.<p>

This is worth noting, most importantly, because long ago Hans came to terms with the fact that he's not a nice man. He's lied to pretty much every girl he's dated, treated them like a treasure and then tossed them aside the moment he got bored. And — if he's being completely honest with himself — he's never truly felt much guilt about it; it's just who he is.

Elsa's different, though. Hans isn't a good person, but he recognizes what's fair, and it's not right to treat a girl like shit when she had an upbringing just as rough as his. In a sad way it's what he likes most about her, she can relate on a level no one else can. It's comforting, really.

And it's not like Elsa doesn't _know _how he is. He's been honest with her from the start, honest in a way that previously he only was with himself. She just seems to genuinely not care that he has been, historically, a total dick.

Plus, he's pretty sure if he ever broke her heart, Anna'd just kick his ass or — well, break his neck, more likely. Maybe do something a bit more creative that he can't think of. He thinks _in_ the box and she thinks outside of it. She said that to him once; he didn't object. The ideas in the box made it there for some reason — probably because they're good.

"Get the light, will you?" Elsa asks, furrowing her brow in a way that tells Hans he's holding them up, holding up sleep. She sounds casual but, then again, she always does. He has to look for other cues to know how she's actually feeling, and those aren't so easy to find. But, that's what makes dating her so damn interesting. Hearts on sleeves aren't much of a challenge.

Hans double checks everything before he gets up to get the light — pillows are good, sheets just washed, window's closed — then he tosses the blanket from over his legs and hops out of the bed. He stops short, though.

"What's the matter?" Elsa asks, and Hans has to think about that because he doesn't actually know right away. He doesn't respond fast enough, so Elsa follows it up with, "Hans. You in there?"

"I'm not a good man," Hans says, for lack of anything better to say. That _was _the last thing on his mind.

Elsa sighs like a woman who's had this conversation one too many times. "Most of that's in the past. I mean, you've been good to _me_. That's what matters."

"Or maybe that's just what you like to tell yourself."

He thinks he's upset her. He's not really sure, though. He can read emotions easily, tell a lie from the truth through the scope on a sniper rifle, but Elsa's better than an old politician who's angered all the wrong people. "Yeah," she says. "Maybe. You should get the light, anyway."

— — —

Hans is eating eggs when Elsa walks in the kitchen the next morning. They taste pretty bad, but they're hot and he didn't want to wake her to make better ones — actually, she's never up this early and he never wakes her. He has a morning routine. He eats and drinks enough coffee to get through the day _without _wanting to hurt someone, and then he reads the paper until he's satisfied he's caught up on enough current events.

It's been like that since they moved in together, until today apparently. Hans lifts a brow at her, questioningly, but all she does is smile and refills his cup of coffee.

After mindlessly roaming through the fridge for a while, Elsa positions herself in front of him, elbows on the counter of the center island, face in her hands. "You're up pretty early," she says.

"I'm up early every morning," Hans says plainly. "Does it bother you?"

"It doesn't bother me that you're up," Elsa says, and chews on her bottom lip for a second. "I just, um. Is there something wrong with the bed?"

"Excuse me?"

Elsa laughs. "God, I'm bad at this. I mean, why don't you stay in bed. With me."

He's not opposed to doing that, it's just something — he doesn't do. He's never lived with a girl long enough to have to coordinate morning routines.

He's never _lived _with a girl.

"I don't know," Hans finally says, and it's an honest answer. He thinks on it a bit more. "I think I like the calm of the morning, it's soothing. Something I didn't get in a house with so many people."

"Soothing," Elsa repeats, rolling the word around in her mouth like candy. "Okay. I like soothing."

Hans sips his coffee and decides not to question it. Elsa looks like she's in a good mood, and he really likes it when she smiles. It's the one time it's not _too _hard to figure her out. "Want me to read you the paper?"

"I'd like that," she says, reaching for a piece of bacon on his plate.

It all feels sort of domestic, Hans doesn't mind that. Maybe she can cook him eggs in the morning and he can tell her how much he likes her scarf as she's getting ready to go off to work. Or maybe it can be the other way around. Neither one of those sounds bad in Hans' mind.

— — —

Elsa likes pancakes, Hans figures out, and those are even better than eggs.

He makes them coffee and reads the paper out loud — even the comics — and Elsa makes them pancakes with cute little fruit decorations on the side. She always manages to get syrup on the corner of her mouth, and he always has the the pleasure of licking it off. Hans doesn't need as much coffee to get through the day anymore, so he's happy Elsa's now a part of his mornings.

The days they _don't_ get out of bed are nice, too.

Hans still has his moments when he watches Elsa sleep, wonders how he got here, with her. He wonders how long it might take for her to leave him, and that's a little scary considering he's never been the one to be left before, and even scarier considering he doesn't plan on leaving Elsa, so it all rests on what she wants to do.

But part of him _knows _she'll stick by him. He just doesn't understand it.

When Elsa lies on him at night, her head pressed against his chest and his heart beating in her ear, she tells him things. He strokes her hair while she talks about work, about Anna and Kristoff and how happy she is that her sister's in her life. She talks about feeling isolated for so long and being glad that she's surrounded by people that care and love and accept her. She talks about having to hide her feelings and wanting to run away and she's so open and honest and Hans just listens. He listens really close and when she gets too quiet or takes a breath that's too shaky, he tells her everything's going to be okay. And that's not a lie, not as long as he has anything to do with it.

— — —

Probably the best thing Hans figured out about Elsa was that, contrary to popular belief, she is _not _a complete ice queen or, in other words, a total bitch. She's a bit standoffish at first, yeah. But it isn't something she does just to be doing it. She doesn't take joy in being closed off, even if people seem to interpret it that way.

In her heart, Elsa lives for the people she loves. She'd sacrifice anything for them to be happy. She can't always make everyone happy, and that's okay; she knows that. But she's content with doing the best she can.

By some inexplicable chance, Hans counts himself as one of the people Elsa loves, so he tries as best as he can to stay happy, let her take care of him when she can. So when she asks him one night, while they're drifting off to sleep, both sweaty and fucked-out, if he's happy — he doesn't even hesitate before he leans over and kisses her forehead and says, "Of course I am."

Elsa plays with the hair on his chest. She's one of the only girls that _hasn__'__t _asked him to shave. She even loves his sideburns. "But, you could be happier," she whispers after a minute.

"I — " Hans isn't sure what to say, wasn't expecting that. "I don't know what you mean."

He feels her nod into his shoulder, breath hot on his skin. "I think you're too hard on yourself." She starts tracing little circles on his chest and it makes him shiver a bit. "I don't think you have to be."

"I just want you to know that maybe I'm not the best — "

"I don't want you to be," Elsa interrupts. "Sometimes it feels like you're making excuses, like you don't want to…" She trails off but Hans knows where she was going with that.

He swallows. "That's not it, Els. I lo — I care about…" _Shit_, this is probably time for the truth. "I love you, Elsa. I'm not trying to run off."

"Why can't I love you too, then?" Elsa asks. "Just the way you are."

And that. That's a good question. And he doesn't know the answer. "I'm not sure," he says.

"Well," Elsa says, and presses harder into his side, "you deserve it."

"Love or happiness?"

"Both."

— — —

Hans promises Anna he'll stop labeling himself an asshole. She says Elsa doesn't like it and her whole life is like, centered around keeping Elsa happy. He keeps his promise, because of course he does. Breaking a promise to Anna is like breaking a promise to a golden retriever. He _could _do it, but it would accomplish nothing. She'd still like him with all her loyal, perfect heart, and he'd just feel like a tool.

It's hard, though, not to call himself an asshole when Kristoff comes over some mornings. Kristoff's like instantly happy when he wakes up because he's got his girl and his dog — whereas Hans has to go through a whole process, sifting through regrets, until he convinces himself he's been decent enough recently to deserve a _little _slack. Still, Kristoff makes him want to do more things he'll regret, like tell Kristoff how ridiculous his beanie is and that he's got a big, dumb mouth like a cartoon character.

He even watches a game with Kristoff, football, and pretends to be interested when some guy gets completely ran over by another guy. The conversation turns to scandals and players with drug addictions and bad calls and head injuries and at some point it gets a bit much for Hans to keep up with, so he excuses himself, says he has work to do.

Kristoff's probably too into the game to notice anyway. Hans just doesn't get it.

— — —

Elsa notices, though — that he's trying. That he wants to be a better person, inside and out.

And he _is _trying, is the thing. And she notices that, and it makes him… _happy_, oddly enough. He's in the kitchen trying to find the box of granola bars he bought not too long ago — when a thought strikes him.

He's never lied to Elsa, not since they agreed they're dating. But at some point in time he forgot that Elsa's never lied to him either. He probably has to trust her when she says she wants to be with him, despite all the things he's told her about himself — and he's told her _everything_. Well, almost everything.

"What's the smile for?" Elsa's standing beside him — he didn't hear her come in the kitchen, but she's holding the box of granola bars that he's been searching for. Hans smiles even wider. He's fairly positive his cheeks might split in half.

She sets the box on the counter and starts chewing on her lip.

_Fuck_. And then he's kissing her.

He wraps his hands around her waist, lifting her onto the counter, sliding her into place like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle. And then her hands — her beautiful hands — are in his hair, gripping at it a bit roughly, and the sensation's of it is almost as satisfying as the taste of her mouth, the way her tongue slides across his teeth. Elsa pulls back a little, teasing, lips barely brushing against Hans' before diving into the kiss again. He feels his face heat up suddenly, and he can't explain it, but he finally realizes he should be doing more with his hands, probably.

So he sticks one up Elsa's shirt, rests his palm flat against her stomach, but Elsa pulls back and she's giggling. "We can't have sex in the kitchen, Hans," she says.

Hans shrugs, because it's not like he's never done it in the kitchen before. And he's definitely not opposed to doing it again. Elsa must have read his mind because she slaps him on the chest. "Come on, don't be a _hooligan_, we prepare food in here."

Fine.

So they make it to the bed, and it's sort of a close thing — almost ended up on the floor and came real close to just doing against the hallway wall. But Hans is sort of glad they made it to the bed, with Elsa spread out beneath him, his hand dipping under the elastic of her panties and pulling them off, and Elsa trying to suck a bruise into his neck. Hans doesn't bruise easily, so it's taking a bit of work. He doesn't mind and neither does she.

Elsa finally pulls away after a bit and he lifts to kiss her, soft this time, lingering. She smiles into his mouth and lifts a hand he didn't see her move. "I'm a little impatient," she says, and reaches down for his jeans.

Hans shifts back and has them off faster than he's ever managed before, and moments later he's propped between Elsa's legs, sliding inside her, supporting himself on firm arms. She arches her back, moves with him, digging her nails into his back. He's going to have scratches, but part of him thinks that's deliberate. He doesn't mind that either.

Elsa kisses him, squeezing around him, wet and inviting. And then she smiles up at him, and it's a friendly smile, affectionate. It makes him a bit dizzy, before he realizes what she's asking for, how she's moving her body — clear instruction. He thrusts hard, jolting them both, and she locks her legs around him. Hans can last, he's a _man_, but part of him doesn't want to, is the thing. He leans down and kisses her, moving perfectly with her body until finally he's at the point where he _can't _last, but Elsa's right beside him as he comes, shaking all the while as she follows right behind him. She bites his lower lip as she shudders, and Hans can't help but smile.

"I realized something today," he says.

"And what's that?" Elsa asks. She sounds as spent as he feels.

He smiles. "I realized that I _can__'__t_ possibly be happier than I am now." And that's the truth, because he doesn't ever plan on lying to Elsa.


End file.
